


The boy who cried (for a) Wolf

by Yaoiteen1001



Category: Sterek - Fandom
Genre: High School, M/M, Nightmares, Stiles, Teen Wolf, Werewolf, derek - Freeform, sterek, teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiteen1001/pseuds/Yaoiteen1001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, this is the end.... forr this one. Before I write the sequel, I decided to write a story in which Stiles and Derek's relationship start under much different circumstances. Thank you for all for reading, hope it was as much fun to read as it was a much fun for me write!</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares

Three weeks after Jackson turned into an actual werewolf, life had turned into a boring story for Stiles. Stiles had gotten a better spot on the team, which had pleased his father very much. Scott had been spending more and more time with Allison, barely hanging out with Stiles. Stiles had tried hanging out with Scott, but that ended when Stiles had interrupted an intense make out session between Scott and Allison. Since then, Stiles had only seen Scott in school, which was getting very limited. Stiles had been sitting by himself at lunch and in practically every class. Lydia had sat with him once in a while out of pity, but usually stuck with her friends. Jackson had been as big a jerk as ever. Once he turned into a full werewolf, his eyes were blue. Other werewolves had chestnut brown eyes, so Jackson was a key point in Derek's interest. Jackson seemed to be bursting to the brim everyday not telling his secret, but Stiles didn't care. 

Also, in the past three weeks, Stiles had been growing his own wolfsbane. He had been growing it in cardboards boxes in his basement under a light. His father had wondered what he was growing, but Stiles had passed it off as a project for school. He didn't know how long it would last, hopefully long enough to grow enough wolfsbane for half a year. So far, he grew two pounds of wolfsbane all from a few seeds from Derek's property. Stiles figured he could make money off of his wolfsbane. He had been selling to Allison, which he had gotten enough to get new tires for his jeep.

Also, Stiles had been having nightmares since Jackson turned, which was unusual because none of his other werewolf ordeals had caused him such terrors. In his nightmares he had seen a lone wolf with blonde hair that fell past his eyes, which he pushed behind his ears. His brown eyes contradicted his hair. He had a big build which was accentuated by the tight, dark clothes he wore. There was at least one ring on each finger and a few necklaces slung on his neck. He was always reaching out to Stiles, his mouth never open, but saying to grab hold. Several times, Stiles had been tempted to take his hand, but always pulled back at the last minute. Then the guy would lash at Stiles with fangs and nails extended. Stiles would wake up shaking uncontrollably and covered in sweat. 

Stiles had the same nightmare, waking up around two. His hands were shaking so hard it made his body vibrate. He walked to the bathroom, turned on the light, and threw some water on his face. Stiles pulled at his tank top because it was plastered to his chest from his sweat. He stared at his eyes, hoping that he could see into whatever was causing the nightmares. He went back into his room and dropped onto the bed. He was too exhausted to pull the sheets over his body. His hands fell over the sides of the bed. Stiles felt something brush his index finger. He kept his eyes open enough to see a pair of glowing red eyes before falling into a deep sleep.


	2. Fairy tales

Stiles woke up the next morning, almost forgetting the night before. It took him a whole bowl of Cheerios to realize that someone had been in his room last night. Although he had speculations of who it could be, he started to freak out of who else it could've been, like a werewolf, or a Kanima, or an angry Lydia... Stiles called Scott after he finished his breakfast, not knowing what to do, plus t was a legit excuse to call him. It went straight to Scott's voice mail. He decided to stop by Scott's, not wanting to investigate this alone. 

It took him a whole of ten minutes to get to Scott's because Stiles sped. Stiles knocked on the door, but nobody answered, so he assumed that Ms. McCall was at work and either Scott was still asleep or with Allison. Stiles opened the door, letting it creak open eerily. The house was dark because the shades were drawn. No lights were on and stiles could hear wind howling throughout the house, although no windows were open. He, stealthily, made his way up the stairs towards Scott's room. There was a quiet that emanated from Scott's room and knowing Scott, it was too quiet. Stiles pushed open the door and saw Scott's darkened room. A lullaby was playing softly from somewhere in the room. Comforters and blankets wre bunched in a lump on the bed, but Stiles could tell someone was underneath the mess. He went to the bedside and shakily grabbed the sheets. Ripping them off the bed, he gasped. 

Laying down on the bed were Allison and Scott, but it was wrong. Allison was in a white dress. Her hands were joined together over her chest, her cheeks were white and her skin cold. She was layer out straight, perfect actually. And Scott, or a puppet that looked like Scott was laying next to her. Strings came up from the limbs and were attached to a cross that was hung over the headboard. His eyes were open, staring into nowhere. The way they were seemed familiar, but stiles couldn't place it. "Allison, I don't know what kind of freaky stuff you and Scott are into," Stiles said, looking at the puppet, "but where's Scott?" She just layer there, her eyes closed and her breathing slow. "Allison... Allison... Allison, Allison, Allison," Stiles sad, gradually getting louder. He walked to the other side of the bed and shook her shoulder lightly. She wasn't waking up. "Shit!" Stiles pulled out his cell and dialed up Derek. 

Derek didn't answer at first, but after his third call, he answered. "What Stiles? What could be so important?" Derek sounded exhausted and out of breath. 

"I'm at Scott's and Allison isn't waking up and there's this weird puppet that loos like Scott. I think you should come over." 

"I'll be over in a few," he replied. Before Stiles could ask what a 'few' was, Derek hung up. Stiles exhaled loudly, falling into the chair next to Scott's desk. He spun himself a few times to pass the time, but seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours... Stiles even looked through Scott's computer to see what Scott did that was more important than himself. He clicked on a video and watched it;

"You bad wolf," Allison said, bent on all fours on the bed. Scott came over with a clip on tail and dog ears on. 

"Grr," Scott growled. 

Stiles quickly shut the monitor off. He shivered after what he almost witnessed. No wonder Scott spent most his time in his house. Stiles heard a knock at the front door. He ran through the house, whipping the front door open. "Whoa, cam down," Derek said, leaning against the door frame, wearing dark shades. 

"Scott's bedroom," Stiles said. He left the door open and headed back upstairs.

When Stiles showed Derek, he took off his shades and said, "how could you not recognize this?"

"I... I don't know."

Derek pointed to Allison and said, "Sleeping Beauty," then he pointed to Scott, "Pinocchio." 

"Who could do this?"

"Well, I only know of one thing... Nightmares." Stiles eyes widened. 

"What kind?" 

"There is said to be a werewolf out there that can manipulate dreams. He has a pattern of punishments; fairy tales. And it looks like Scott and Allison are just his first. He has an abundance of things to choose from." Stiles dropped down into the office chair, not believing this could happen... or even be real.


	3. Beautiful beginnings

Stiles sat in the chair while Derek paced the room, scratching at his chin, his eyes darting around the room trying to notice something they hadn't noticed before. But Stiles thought it was pointless, a waste of time that could be spent on trying to find a cure, or who the next victim would be (hopefully Jackson). Stiles tried to relax, pushing all bad thoughts out, which were instantly replaced by thoughts of Derek... naked, which he quickly dismissed. Stiles shut his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts to keep from going insane when a deep darkness plucked him from his chair and dragged him away frm Scott's room. The man appeared again, his blonde locks swaying in the non existent wind. He pushed it out of his hair several times while reaching out to Stiles. He reached out, touching fingertips with the man. A sudden cold rushed through his body, making him shiver violently. Then he noticed that his hoodie started turning red. His whole hoodie turned red and silky, leaving him with a basket in his arm. Before his pants could transform, he pulled back, making the man spit with anger. He yelled out without moving his lips, 'You will die with the rest of them... Stuck in the fairy tales I create. Next time I'll get you 'lil red!' The darkness faded and the room came back into view. He opened his eyes and found Derek shaking him, yelling his name. His eyes flashed red with fear. It would've made Stiles smile, but he recognized those eyes... from the night before. 

Stiles sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Your hoodie started to turn red, so I got worried," Derek said, still looking at him with his big, red eyes. 

"What...? Your eyes," Stiles replied, mumbling in a incoherent voice. Stiles stretched, yawning. He felt like he had been sleeping for days, when only it was minutes. "What happened?" he wondered.

"You dozed off, then you got real cold, then your hoodie started turning red and I swear there was a basket in your arms." Derek replied. Derek was still grasping Stiles shoulders to the point where Stiles thought they might snap off. 

"Let go, you're hurting me," he said, standing up, swaying slightly. Stiles swayed to much to the left and started to fall, but Derek caught him in his arms. Stiles smiled in a drunken way, but Derek rolled his eyes and stood Stiles back up. Scott and Allison were in the same places, except the cross thing that was attached to the strings that were attached to Scott was hanging over the side of the bed. "Were you... playing with Scott?" 

"Uh, no, that's weird Stiles. I think you're just tired." Derek darted his eyes back and forth, then quickly diverted his attention. Stiles stared at his sleeve before realizing that the cuff was red fading into green. He had come so close to a fate that had gotten Allison and Scott. Then he thought of what the man said about him dying like the others. Was Scott and Allison dead, or just in a state of super fairy tale sleep? And who else had gotten turned into a fairy tale character? That question lingered in Stiles mind. 

"Derek! We have to figure out who else has gotten turned... fast," Stiles said, grabbing at Derek's T-shirts sleeve. Stiles just noticed that his shirt was rather tight, like it was a few sizes too small. It looked like a shirt Stiles would wear, and I looked his size. It definitely wasn't something Derek would wear everyday... or ever. Could it have been Stiles shirt, or something he would've worn? Why would Derek wear something like that? It was almost like he picked I out to please Stiles... maybe...

Derek turned and said, "Alright. Calm down crazy." He walked out the door and when Stiles followed, he found Derek was already opening the front door. Derek waited for Stiles to take two stairs at a time before he opened the door. 

"Thank you my fine gentleman," Stiles said, smiling. He noticed that Derek had been acting nicer towards him during the past few days. He thought it was wired, but he liked it. This opened his mind to several possibilities of what Derek might be doing, or thinking... or feeling. Did Derek have feelings for him? Did he have feelings for Derek? Stiles knew the answer, but it scared him, because since he was little he had like Lydia, never thinking twice about any other girl, or boy for that matter. So sudden feelings for a man that could be considerably older was frightening for Stiles. But he didn't turn away from it, he just stared the feelings in the eyes, not acting against or with it. Just staring... just standing by letting the opportunity to pass. But Stiles wasn't that kind of person. He acted on impulse. He almost never thought first, and always accepted consequences last. So when Derek closed the door, Stiles open mouth kissed Derek. Then he pulled away, looking at Derek. He watched as Derek's eyes turned from brown, to bright red, just like his cheeks. stiles smiled, knowing it worked...


	4. Lydia

Derek stood in front of the door, not sure of how to respond to Stiles kiss. He could feel himself getting warmer and by the silly look on Stiles face, he was most likely blushing in all the wrong places. Stiles stepped forward, trying to kiss Derek again, but he backed up as far as he could. It seemed like Derek was trying to melt into the door, and he probably would've if he could've. Stiles backed off quickly, realizing that Derek didn't feel the way he did. Stiles immediately wished he hadn't kissed Derek so suddenly. Stiles looked away, embarrassed. "We should go find Lydia, and Jackson," Stiles said, trying to break the tension. "I'll go to Lydia's place." He quickly ran to his jeep and started it up. Within seconds, Derek was at his window, knocking. Stiles rolled down the window. 

"Just... just give me time," Derek said before walking to his car. 

The ride to Lydia's was long and boring. Stiles had nobody to talk to, nobody to annoy. Plus, it was hard trying to come up with a story that would seem legit enough to get into Lydia's house. She wasn't an easy person to talk to, or be around, which made Stiles wonder what he had liked about her for so many years. Stiles shook his head clear, feeling that if the topic of conversation in his head got too heated, it might distract his driving. 

He pulled into Lydia's mansion of a house about twenty minutes later. He frantically rapped on Lydia's front door, hoping that she was home. Lydia answered the front door, looking at Stiles with her head cocked. "What! Stiles!" she practically yelled. 

"I was just... uh... wondering if you... got that project done," Stiles said, not knowing what else to come up with.

"What project?" she asked, slightly worried. 

"The science one," he replied. 

"Stiles, I have a feeling that you're lying to me," she said, narrowing her eyes. He wondered if she could actually see. Through him... and his lies. 

"Can I come in?" he asked. 

"Whatever," she relied. Stiles stepped in, fingering a lock of wolfsbane he put in his hoodie's pocket. She led him to her room, and sat him down on her bed. "I'll be right back." 

"Okay," Stiles said. He siled half-heartedly. He tucked his hands between his knees, trying to keep them from moving. He was getting very nervous. Stiles waited, examining her room, but didn't care to take in it features. What caught his attention was a scream coming from down the hall. He exited her room cautiously, making his way down the dimly lit hallway. The door at the back n the let was slightly ajar. The light was on and from what he could see, it was the bathroom. Stiles placed his Han on the door, pushing it gently. It opens slowly, revealing Lydia sprawled out on the floor. Stiles knelt down and let her place. It was weak but still there. He noticed what she was wearing changed; she was wearing a dress, the part that coverdth breasts was blue and the rest was white with gold hemming and red sleeves. Her hair seemed shorter, and black. Her skin was pale, and her lips cherry red. Stiles noticed something in her hair... a comb. It was bejeweled on the handle, covered in gold. Stiles tugged at the comb, seeing it as a suspicios accessory in this story book setting. 

The comb came out but not without a fight. Stiles was suprised that he didn't pull out a lock of her hair. Suddenly, color filled her face and arms. Her dress turned into the pink blouse and jeans she was wearing. She coughed a few times, then said, "Stiles, get out!" 

Stiles called Derek while driving towards Jackson's house. "Hey, I found Lydia. She ha turned into Snow White. But, she did it in the bathroom, perfectly awake," Stiles said. 

"We'll, Lydia was having those day dreams about Peter, so..."

"Okay, okay. She had a comb in her hair, like Snow, and when I pulled it out she came back to life."

"The next time, this guy is going to feed her an apple"

"Yeah, but if Lydia was cured by taking something out of her hair, then we can cure Allison and Scott!" Stiles said, excitedly. 

"We can cure them with the fairy tale cure. Allison's true love needs to kiss her and Scott needs to perform a selfless act. But we have to cure Scott first," Derek replied. 

"I'm on my way to Jackson's now," Stiles said.

"I'm not there right now, come over to my place."

"What about Jackson?" 

"He's fine." 

"Fine, I'll be at you house in twenty." Stiles hung up the phone. 

Derek had lied. He was really at stiles house, in his room. He had come up with a few inferences. One major thing scratched at his mind; why was this wolf only attacking Stiles group of friends?" He searched Stiles room, coming to his laptop. He flipped it open and scrolled to the history. Derek's eyes widened with what he found. Snow White, Pinnochio, Sleeping Beauty, Red Riding Hood... they were all stories Stiles had been looking at. Why was Stiles looking at fairy tales? Derek had a few ideas, bu he hoped he was wrong.


	5. The warning

Stiles arrived at Derek's house not long after the call. When he pulled in near the front porch, he didn't see Derek's car, which was odd because he said that he was at his house. Stiles shrugged away his worries, wanting no to just sit down somewhere that was filled with more cushion than his car seat. After his ordeal with Lydia, he wanted to sleep... but he knew if he slept, he could be turned into a fairy tale character which might or might not be curable. He made his way through the house and found a dusty bed in a room on the top floor. Though the bed made him sneeze every so often, he was warm and comfortable, so he didn't move. He shut his eyes, just for a second, then he'd eat up and wait for Derek. But, his eyelids were too heavy, and he couldn't help but fall asleep. 

Stiles was walking through a thick-treed forest. A light fog settled above the grund at knee height. Tree roots and stray branches littered th forest floor making Stiles tripping every so often. Barely any leaves were still attached to th branches due to the violent wind whipping between the trunks. Leaves fluttering around, threatening to poke an eye out. The air was chilly, nipping Stiles in all the wrong places. He zipped up his hoodie, trying to stay as warm as possible. He wrapped hisarmsacross his chest, rubbing his upper arms. He could see every chilly breath that exited his body. He was surprised his breaths didn't turn into sheets of ice. His fingers were pale and his knuckles turning a light blue. He could feel the color flush from his face. His legs grew colder, slightly numb. The only place was still slightly warm was his crotch. The one time he didn't need it, it was being useful. 

Stiles wished he had worn warmer shoes, realizing his thin converse weren't enough to keep out the cold. He shifted between the trees, which gave little space for movement. The trees finally gave way to a little stone path that led up to a little cottage that sat atop a tiny hill. Knowing that there wasn't anywhere else to go, Stiles climbed the hill, slipping on the wet stone pathway. By the time he reached the cottage his jeans were dirtied at the knees and his palms were scraped up. He wiped his hands off before reaching for the handle to the cottage. It opened with ease, almost noiseless. The first thing he noticed was the warmth from a little fireplace that sat at the back of the cottage. The whole left side of the cottage was a kitchen with a dining table in the middle. The right side consisted of a bed, a dresser and a shelf full of games and books. A curtain blocked the bed, but you could still see the silhouette. He hurried to the fireplace, rubbing his hands together, seeing the color return to his hands. He pulled his hands back, hearing a creak coming from behind the curtain. He slowly made his way to the bed, reaching out for the curtain. 

He pulled the curtain back, seeing Derek laying in the bed, wearing a... a nightgown. Stiles noticed three things wrong with him; his ears, eyes and teeth, "Derek, what big ears you have!" 

"Better to hear your every wish and demand, my dear," Derek said. 

"Derek, what big eyes you have!" 

"Better to see your wonderful body, my dear," Derek said, smiling. 

Stiles frowned and said, "Derek, what big teeth you have!"

"Better to rip your flesh open and eat your entrails with... my dear," Derek said, lunging at Stiles. 

Stiles woke, his surroundings black as night. He was floating in the air. The man appeared, in front of him. "Come with me," he said without opening his mouth. He held out his heard, smiling, beckoning. Stiles knew better. He kept his hands at his sides, staring the man in the eyes. He pulled his arm back, his smile growing straight. "Well, 'lil red, Jackson and Danny will be going down soon. As I recall, Danny is trying to get Jackson in bed to have him 'experiment'. Once they hit that bed, I'll make them fall asleep, as I did you." The man disappeared in the blackness. 

Stiles woke with a jolt. Derek was sitting on top of him, his red eyes full of fear, his mouth ajar. Derek's hands were on Stiles chest. "We need to go!" Stiles said, smiling.


	6. Saving Jackson... and Danny

Stiles slammed on the brakes, swerving to make sure he didn't hit Jackson's car. He drove into the grass, creating tread marks. Stiles didn't really give a crap what Jackson would say, because in the back of his mind, h really wanted to do it. Derek was almost to the front door by the time Stiles got out of the car. He was in such a rush, and Stiles didn't really know why. Stiles rushed in after him. 

They got to Jackson's room within seconds, finding Danny on top of Jackson, and they were both sleeping. "What do we do now?" Stiles asked. 

"I don't know," Derek replied. 

An idea popped into Stiles head. "I've got an idea," he said, laying down next to the two guys. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep. 

Stiles woke up in a forest. The forest looked the same as the one from his dream, with only a few miner details. The trees weren't so close together, which made it easy to walk. The fog was thicker, and produced an acrid smell. Some of the trees looked dead with their black bark and gray leaves. Stiles saw two pairs of footprints through the thick fog and decided to follow them. As he got further into the forest, a sweet and sour smell filled his nostrils. It left an aftertaste that burned the back of his throat. He walked for about ten minutes through the forest until he came to a clearing with a house in the middle. The house was made of candy. He could see a fire burning, which was probably creating the nasty smell. He continued further and grabbed the peppermint doorknob. He twisted and pushed. The first floor was made of a kitchen, dinng room and a small area that was penned off, like it was for children. The graham cracker stairs led up to a darker floor. A creak sounded from above, so Stiles decided to go up. As he climbed each stair, a chatter could be heard. Sounded like talking, which turned to a quiet argument. 

He found only one door on the upper level, which must have opened to a large room. He opened it by twisting another peppermint doorknob. It opened up to what seemed like a bakery. Stiles soon realized that it was a room for witchcraft. He would've found it cool, if he wasn't looking for Jackson and Danny. He walked through the maze made of books, potions and pots, trying to find where the chatter was coming from. He finally found it. 

Jackson and Danny were standing shoulder to shoulder, in front of a decreed old woman. She wore gray rags, which seemed to be stitched together by strands of hair. Her hands looked like bones because her skin was so tight. The skin n her face came down over her can in bags. She had little hai on her head. She was frowning at them. "Jackson, Danny?" 

They all turned. "Stiles! What're you doing here?!" 

"We'll, I was going to save you , but not with that tone of voice," Stiles replied, putting his hands on his hips. 

"What's going on?" Danny asked. The witch took her chance. She lunged forward and grabbed Danny, holding a knife to his throat. The witch suddenly transformed. HTHH skin on her face tightened, her cheekbones rising. Her rags turned to a dress and her hair grew in, full and brown. She had disguised herself. 

"We'll, I got plenty of fresh meat to last a month." She smiled, licking her now pink lips. 

"Shut up you old hag," Jackson retorted. Her grip tightened on Danny. 

"Jackson!" her hissed. 

"Kill him... I don care," Jackson said, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Jackson," Danny said again, more worried and broken that his friend had just said that. She smiled. 

"Oh... friends, so close, they're practically brothers, or brother-sister, and now they're fighting," she cackled, throwing her head back. Stiles had figured it out. Jackson and Danny were Hansel and Gretel. 

"Uh, uh... take me instead of them!" Stiles said, not knowing what else to do. 

"And why in hell should I do that?" the witch asked. 

"Because I heard that I am... I am higher in nutrients and fiber, plus I have like ten times more protein than them. I am healthier... which will help your figure... not that it needs help," Stiles said. 

"Convincing..." She looked at Jackson and Danny, then at Stiles. After many shifting between the three, she let Danny go. She waved her index finger and Stiles skidded towards her. She gripped Stiles arm, and as soon as that happened, Jackson and Danny disappeared. When they disappeared, the houses faded and the cottage from Stiles dream appeared. The curtain in front of the bed was drawn, but nothing occupied it. A fire crackled in the fire place. Stiles felt something breathing down his neck. He turned, seeing the wolf.

"There you are 'lil red," the wolf said. It brought up its paw, and brought it down and across. It's claws sliced Stiles neck in three places. Blood poured from each wound like waterfalls. Stiles gasped, gripping his neck. He coughed, falling to the floor. The wolf laughed, menacingly. 

 

Derek paced back and forth in Jackson's room. He went over every possibility. He heard a gasp and saw Danny and Jackson wake up. Stiles was still asleep. They sat up, eyes wide. They jumped out of the bed, naked and exposed. Jackson wasn't much of a sighht, but Danny... Derek pried his eyes from the boys. "Put some clothes on," Derek said, turning. They hurried out of the room. He turned back around and hurried to the side of the bed Stiles was on. His jacket slowly turned into a red hoodie. He watched as Stiles facial expressions were changing. Then, three slices in his neck appeared, bleeding everywhere. Derek started to freak out. He hadn't seen anything like this before. He took off his shirt and placed it on Stiles neck. He scrolled through his mind. Trying to find out what to do. Derek searched Stiles pockets, trying to find something... anything. He found a lock of wolfsbane and gripped it with relief. He crunched p the wolfsbane with his fist. He made a small cut in his arm, and dabbled the Wolsbane with his blood. He fought off the wolfsbane, which was affecting him through the little cut. He took the shirt off of Stiles neck, and placed the wolfsbane in the cuts. He apologized Under his breath. 

Within seconds, the cuts healed, leaving blood stains on his neck. Stiles coughed, but remained asleep. Now, Derek wasn't sure what to do. He only ever wanted to protect Stiles, but now, he felt helpless, even with his wolf powers.


	7. Stiles dream

Stiles woke in a cold sweat, jolting up from the hay bed in the cottage. The thin curtain was drawn, seeming to give him his privacy. But Stiles could see into the next room. He could see the fire crackling behind the grate... He could see the table set for two... He could see the wolf sleeping, curled into a ball by the door. It's snores filled the room, almost putting Stiles in a trance. But he was alert, his adrenaline pumping through his body. The last thing he remembered was holding his bleeding neck, gasping for air, hoping to god that Derek was okay. Stiles gripped his neck, feeling only skin, no blood of deep, fatal wounds. He slipped out of the bed, his feet creaking on the wooden floor. The wolf snorted, pawed its nose, then continued snoring. Stiles pulled the curtain back as noiselessly as possible, which was hard because the rings holding it on the pole were rusty and jagged. When Stiles managed to get the curtain open enough to where he could slip through, he checked his surrounding; dirty pots in the grimy kitchen sink which sat under a moldy window. The cupboards were infected with termites giving the look of Swiss cheese. The wooden counters were cut up and looked like many diseases sat upon it, waiting to infect a helpless victim. The table in the center was rotting. Stiles as surprised to see it still sanding. He tried finding smelting, anything that he could use to protect himself. Then he saw it. 

In the corner of the cottage, farthest from the door, sat a wooden bat. It was set up against a corner wall. Stiles swiftly crossed the cottage and grabbed the bat. He held it in both hands, his hands griping it tightly. His knuckles turned white and his fingers started to hurt, but he didn't care. He made his way towards the wolf, watching it as its stomach inflated, then deflated. He could see its rib cage, pressing against its skin. He came to it, and put a foot over it. He grabbed at the doorknob, but then he noticed something. He couldn't hear anything.... he couldn't even snoring. He looked down to see the wolf, staring at him with its huge red eyes. "Shit," Stiles muttered under his breath. He stumbled back as the wolf stood up. As I did so, it turned into Derek, standing there naked. "Stop, you.... you....," Stiles couldn't think within Derek standing naked in front of him, so he came up with the best thing he could think of, "you sourwolf!"

Derek laughed. Then he growled, baring his fangs. He moved forward, and lunged, opening his mouth, wider and wider. 

 

Derek sat at the edge of the bed, waiting.... hoping Stiles would wake up. He breathed heavily, sweat running down his face in beads. His hair, which was styled in his usual way, was now moppy with sweat. Every so often, Derek's hopes would get higher, seeing one of Stiles fingers twitch. He watched as Stile's chest raced up and down. Stiles was so sweaty that his T-shirt was practically see through. Derek would've gotten down on his knees and licked every bead of sweat off of his chest, but it would've been wrong, taking advantage of a person that would willingly do that when he was awake. He stroked Stiles arm, seeing it twitch again. He smiled. 

Derek kneeled down, next to Stiles face. He watched as Stiles breathed, letting out short gasps of breath, and sucking in, like he was trying to breath. Derek leaned in closer. He could smell Stiles breath; wolfsbane and a hint of mint gum. Derek liked it, it was sweet yet sour, soft yet hard, warm yet cold. He touched his lips to Stile's, warmth spreading into his body, spider-webbing throughout his body. He leaned back, seeing Stiles was still asleep, unchanging. Derek punched the bedside tabl in anger, breaking off the corner. Danny rushed in, "What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned. 

"Nothing," Derek replied, putting on a fake smile. Derek sat down against the bed as Danny walked off. Suddenly, Derek felt full, like he had eaten a full meal, when he actually hadn't. 

 

Stiles opened his eyes; he was somewhere dark, and damp. A small opening of light at the top of the cramped space. The opening contorted and a huge piece of meat fell into the space, on top of Stiles head. He was in a stomach, the wolves stomach to be exact. 

 

Derek rubbed his stomach, then heard a muffled sound, he listened closer to his stomach, "Derek!" It was Stiles.


	8. Gruesomely in love

"Danny! Jackson!" Derek yelled, sitting in a lounge chair next to Jackson's bed, where Stiles was still sound asleep, twitching and jerking. Danny ran in first, then Jackson walked in, a look of boredom on his face. 

"What's wrong?" Danny asked. 

"Get me a knife, a big one," he said, clutching his stomach. Danny disappeared down the hall, thudding down the stairs.

Jackson sniffed, then said, "Did someone spill something or cook asparagus or something in here, cause it stinks in here.... Like piss." Jackson looked around, a disgusted look on his face. He spotted a dark line in his carpet, going around the bed. "Derek, did you fucking piss on the carpet?!" 

"Maybe....," he said, looking away, embarrassed. 

"Why, did you..."

"It's a way to mark your territory," Derek replied. 

"Oh god, I am leaving," Jackson said, gagging. Danny came in a few seconds later, handing Derek the knife. Danny sat down on the end of the bed, curious as to what Derek was doing. Derek took off his shirt, throwing it in a direction he didn't care to remember. Derek stuffed a fist into his mouth, clamping down hard. He touched the tip of the knife to his stomach, just above his belly button, Danny stared, not at the knife, but at Derek's body. 

"What!?" Derek almost shouted at Danny. 

"No-nothing," he replied, caught off guard by the sudden hostility. Derek pressed the knife into his stomach, blood dribbling from the cut. He made sure the knife wasn't in too far, but also that it was in far enough to make a sizeable cut. He dragged the knife across his stomach, listening to the ripping of his flesh and the slosh of tissue and blood being dragged and moved. Blood gushed out of th long cut on his stomach. The top half of Derek's pants were stained red, and the chair and carpet below was most definitely be ruined. Derek pulled out the knife, setting it on the carpet. He stared at the cut for a moment, then used both hands to pry it open. 

"Years of working out to get this fucking body, and now I just ruined it," Derek said to himself while opening the cut. His fingers pulled at the muscle and flesh, slipping a few times on blood. He could see the top of the intestines and the bottom of his stomach. It looked full but he couldn't tell what was in it. Derek yelled as he felt his stomach, trying to make out the shape. He wasn't sure and wasn't going to be able to tell. He picked up the knife again, by this time Danny had left, and stabbed his stomach repeatedly. The pain was overwhelming, and he had to concentrate as hard as he could to keep from puking. He could feel his stomach acid spilling into his body, burning his insides. He felt what filled his stomach and pulled. Out through th cut, he pulled a red hoodie. It was soaked in blood and acid. He set in the floor, letting out short, shallow gasps of air. He could barely breath without wanting to puke. His body burned and his head spun. He passed out, his guts spilling onto the carpet.... not healing.

Stiles woke up, his forehead beaded with sweat. His clothes were soaked and see through. He gulped down large breaths, like he hadn't had air in months. Stiles sat on the edge of the bed, tryin to focuse. He saw the dark line on the carpet, trailing around the bed. "Is that piss!?" Stiles asked, chuckling to himself. Then he heard Derek gasp. He stood up, his heart racing. H found Derek just around the bed, sitting on a chair, his guts spilling out. A red hoodie sat on the floor, but as soon as he saw it, it was gone. He touched Derek's chest, gasping at what he had done. "Shit! What do I do.... What do I do," he said, starting to freak out. He checked is pockets for Wolsbane, and founds a few buds from the one he brought. He mashed it in his hand and rubbed it into the cut, having to stop several times to keep from throwing up. Th cut didn't heal, right away. It sealed up slowly, like two pieces of fabric being stitched together. His guts tumbled back into his body before the cut completely closed. 

It left a nasty scar across his stomach. Just looking at it made Stiles sad. The fact that Derek had to do this, to wake him up. Stiles placed his hands on Derek's cheeks, rubbing them with his thumbs. He placed his forehead onto Derek's, breathing heavily. Tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping onto Derek's bare skin. "I'm so sorry," Stiles cried, kissing Derek. It wasn't one of those two seconds and your done kind of kisses. No. It lasted. He felt the fading warmth of Derek pass into his lips. He pulled away, and at back, trying to not cry, trying to keep his cool. 

Then, suddenly, the house shook. Loose things on Jackson's dresser and shelves fell onto the floor shattering. The shaking lasted a good minute, then stopped. All of a sudden, threev little pigs appeared in front of Jackson's room, oinking an squealing. They ran down the hall. Stiles shifted to the window and saw strange things happening: a woman wearing an old dress ran down the street with about a mile of hair following her. He saw a beanstalk grow in the middle of the road, sending chunks of cement in different directions. Whatever cause their nightmares, was spilling into the real world, and Stiles had to find out who was doing it, with or without Derek.


	9. Appearance

Stiles just stared. He watched as every fairy tale ever made ran amuck in the street. The creatures reared through houses, attacked people, broke cars and killed. He was actually surprised that nothing had gotten into the house. He hurried back to Derek. "Derek.... Derek.... Derek!" Stiles yelled, a tear staining his cheek. He shook Derek rather violently, but he got nothing out of him. He just layer there, his head bobbing back and forth. Stiles had to check for a pulse to make sure that Derek was still alive. As a last resort, he lifted his hand in the air, then brought it down, smacking Derek right across his cheek. Honstly, it hurt Stiles more than it did Derek. Derek's cheek turned red, and Derek snorted, but he didn't wake up. Stiles stood up and left the room, closing and locking it behind him. If he couldn't wake him up, he'd just have to protect him. Jackson was watch TV and Danny was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink, gripping the sides of the counters. He was breathing heavily. Jackson saw Stiles, "'Bout time, I wanted my bed back. Where's piss-boy?" 

"Who?" 

"Derek!"

"That was Derek?! He is unconscious on your floor, don't bother him," Stiles replied. Wow, Derek had pissed around the bed, Stiles thought. Jackson scoffed, then pulled out his phone. "By the way, I wouldn't go outside," Stiles said. 

"Why!?"

"Just don't," Stiles said back, getting mad at Jackson for questioning. Jackson went down the stairs rolling his eyes. Stiles sat down, exhausted, which was weird because he had just gotten out of a deep sleep. "Danny!"

Danny ran out of the bathroom, "What!"

"Can you make sure that o one goes in Jackson's room?"

"Yeah," he replied, watching Stiles as he left, "where you going?"

"Scott's," Stiles said, hurrying out the door. Luckily, there weren't any fairy tale creatures too close by. He jumped into his jeep and started it up, not caring about his seat belt. He backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. 

He arrived at Scott's house within seconds. He practically sprinted through the door and up the stairs. He almost tripped on his shoelace, but caught himself just in time. He found Scott and Allison in the same places as before. It seemed like it had been ages since he had been here, wondering how to cure them. He knelt down next to Scott, "I don't know if you can hear me or not, Scott, but please I need help. Derek won't wake up, there are monsters in the streets, and I am a fucking idiot. I can't get through this myself." Scott didn't move, just lay there. "We'll, I see how it is. Lets see how you like e silent treatment," Stiles scoffed, folding his arms and legs like a five year old. It took him a good few seconds before he realized what he had just done. He unfolded his arms and sat back, against Scott's bedside table. Then a crackling sound came from in front of Scott's bed. A tear opened up n the middle of the room, and guess who stepped out. The blonde guy!


	10. Bitten

The blond guy.... that was the sad name of the nightmare man of his dreams. Of all their dreams, actually. He stood there, an invisible wind whipping his trench coat around his ankles, making a clapping noise. He wore black, leather pants, and a blood red tank. Dog tags and a chan with several moon shaped charms hung loosely on his neck. He had the same amount of rings, which made Stiles wonder how he coul actually bend them. His eyes flashed light brown in the light, and his hair flowed, almost movie-like. He had an ear to ear smile on his pale face. His cheeks were roses. "Hello, 'lil red," he said, holding out his hand. 

"Oh no, I know that trick, I am not falling for tha again," Stiles said, a stern look on his face. He was still surprised that this was actually happening. The man closed his outstretched hand with a curl, placing it in his pocket.his smile seemed to turn to a vicious frown for second, then became a smile once more. 

"I understand that you don't trust me, but if I really wanted to drag you back into a nightmare, I would've done it, without coming here. Plus, seems the nightmare is coming to you." He grinned at what he said, acting as if he was so clever. 

"True, but I still don't trust you. You almost killed me, and Derek. My friends are in a coma, looking like fairly tales. And, why did you make me red riding hood," Stiles wondered, relaxing a bit, but his hands were balled into fists if he ever needed to use them. 

"As said in a movie I dreamt about, 'the nightmare chooses the person, Stiles'," he said, walking to the window to marvel in his beautiful work. 

"What fucking movie did you see that in!"

"Well, I had to fix it to fit our situation, of course," the man said.

"Oh, of course," Stiles replied, mocking him of of fear and anger. "What is your name, by the way? Never caught it when I was being chased by wolves and witches."

"Why would I tell you my sole weakness!?" 

"Why would a werewolve's name be his weakness?" Stiles muttered under his breath. 

"What," the man said, turning on his heel from the window, to look at Stiles. 

"Just talking to myself," Stiles said, getting frustrated. "If you can't tell me your name, can you tell me, why here, why now?"

"One: this is a very.... what's the word.... supernatural town. Two: this is a equinox, not known to mere mortals, that places my powers at there peak." He talked in riddles, or that's what it seemed to Stiles. If Scott, or Allison, or Derek, or even fucking Jackson were here, he would feel ten times more confident. 

"What the hell does that mean?!"

"Poor Stiles, all alone, unable to figure out the nightmare man's big secret. Who.... or what he really is. Why does he target Stiles, or his friends?" the man chuckled, evil and sinister. "We'll, Stiles, I'll leave you with one more riddle to solve." The man was in Stiles head. Anger filled Stiles, head to toe. The man walked around the bed, to stand face to face with Stiles. For a moment, nothing happened. Then something happened, in a few quick moments. The man grabbed the back of Stiles neck, forcing him forwards. The man opened his mouth, fulling set after set of talons, each tipped with black gunk. Stiles didn't have time to scream before the man sunk his teeth into Stiles neck. The man didn't do anything, except leaving his teeth in Stiles for a good ten seconds. Stiles couldn't move do to shock, or fear, or something he couldn't describe. The man pulled away, then with a snap of his fingers, he was gone. 

Stiles thudded to the floor, gripping his neck. Blood and black oozed from the tooth marks. He tried to breath, just a little breath would do, but his lungs isn't seem to work. His heart slowed, and suddenly, Stiles was tired. His eyelids grew heavy. He fell back, falling into a sleep, deeper than any other. 

Stiles woke up, in a chair. Gauze and tape was covering the bite marks. His hands were still stained with red and black. He was she that his neck was the same. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. What looked like TV static filled his vison when he closed his eyes, making him dizzy. He could breath.... his heart was beating. So, for now, he was alright. He got up from the chair, and stumbled a few steps before falling. He heard footsteps running down the hall and saw Scott run into the room. Now he knew he was going crazy. Scott was Pinnochio, right?

"Are you alright?" Scott asked, lifting Stiles back into the chair. 

"Why aren't you wooden!?" Stiles managed to ask.

"You know how Pinnochio becam a real boy?" Stiles shook his head. "He did a selfless act."

"You did a selfless act?"

"Yeah, I helped you," he said smiling. 

"But we thought you couldn't move," Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. 

"I can't when others are looking," Scott replied. 

"What about Allison, did you kiss her?" 

"I figured, she kisses me everyday. So saving you kind of overruled." Scott laughed and Stiles joined in, but stopped immediately because his throat hurt and his lungs weren't working at full. 

"We'll, go kis her, you idiot," Stiles said, smacking Scott pride the head. Scott shuffled to the side of the bed where Allison was, rubbing the back of his head. He leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips. Almost right after, color returning to her cheeks. He dress turned into a shirt and jeans. She jerked up, taking in large gulps of air. 

"Holy shit!" she said.


	11. Awakened

Stiles sped down the road. Scott was in the passenger seat and Allison sat quietly in the back. He didn't have on a seatbelt, the bite on his neck was bleeding all sorts of black and red gunk, and all Stiles cared about was getting Derek help, right away. Stiles was surprised that his little jeep hadn't turned over after he rounded each corner, turning sharply. Every time he did so, he will hear Scott and Allison let out a sigh of relief. Stiles laughed in his head, thinking that if the circumstances weren't so threatening, he would be having a good laugh at the moment. Stiles swerved out of the way, dodging a little girl with golden hair, twisting into thick locks around her shoulders. She held a bowl of pourable, eating it, then spitting it out. Stiles didn't even care to think of which fairy tale this could be from. He pulled into Jackson's drivewa, and this time he did hit Jackson's car. He broke the left tail light, and smashed the rear in half. The car alarm blared, sending birds into the air, and creatures howling and screeching. 

Stiles as in the door faster than you could say sourwolf. Scott and Allison were trailing right behind him. He rushed into Jackson's room, Derek still unconscious on the chair. Danny was standing by the door, "What happened?" he asked. 

"Oh, nothing," Stiles replied. He smiled, then moved into the Allison closed and locked the door behind herself. Stiles put his ear next to Derek's mouth, and heard labored breathing. He was getting worse, and he didn't know what to do. "What do we do?!" Stiles practically yelled. 

"Dude, calm the fuck down," Scott snapped back, giving him a look. Stiles turned away, looking at Derek. His body was glistening with sweat, and even that made him look sexy. He watched as Derek's chest rose, then fell. How his muscles flexed every so often, and how he muttered under his breath in an adorable way. Stiles gripped his hand, taking advantage of this moment, because he knew that when Derek woke, he definitely wouldn't let Stiles do that. He brushed Derek's cheek with the back of his hand, feeling his high cheekbones. Derek whined and nuzzled into his hand. Stiles smiled. He placed his hand against Derek's temple. I wish you would wake up, Stiles thought. 

Derek, coughed, his eyes fluttering. He sucked in a deep breath, coughing it back out. Stiles smiled when Derek showed his buck teeth. Those were one of the many reasons he thought was adorable about Derek. His peanut ears and badass-ness were also a few of the things. Derek rubbed his eyes, then felt his stomach. When he felt the scar, he looked down. "We'll shit! I've got this perfect body, and that one scar is going to make it hard getting laid," Derek sighed. Stiles rolled his eyes, and Scott sat down on the bed, Allison placing herself onto his lap. 

Derek stood up, only to fall back down into the chair because of overwhelming dizziness. He placed a hand over his forehead, feeling if he had a fever. Stiles gripped his hand, "Are you alright?" he asked. 

"Yeah," he replied, pulling his hand away, standing up again. Stiles takes where he was, crouching next to the chair. His eyes were wide, and he had to keep from crying. Derek stood next to the window, watching the creatures below, wrecking havoc on the neighborhood. 

"What is the man causing this?" Scott asked, trying to break the tension. 

"Well, I don't think it's a werewolf," he replied, not giving a full answer. 

"What is it then?" Stiles asked, standing up. 

"A demon."

"Demon!" Stiles, Scott, and Allison said in unison. 

"He had the power to manipulate your dreams and take control of you with it." he said, not moving from his spot at the window. 

"Well, shit!" Stiles said. 

"What?" Derek said, turning from the window, his face unimpressed by anything. The same look he always had on. 

"He bit me," Stiles replied, tearing the gauze of his neck. Allison gasped, Scott winced, and it was like someone snapped there finger at Derek because he was suddenly alert. "What," Stiles wondered. He hadn't actually seen the bite, and he didn't really want to, but with the reactions he got, he had to take a look. He found the bathroom and found what they gasped at. The bite mark was swollen, and a dull black. Black oozed from the wound, slowly. "Fuck!"


	12. Coming to terms

Stiles stared....  
Just stared....  
The closer he looked at the bite on his neck, the more it seemed to pulse as blood and god knows what coursed through it. He had to look away, for fear of throwing up, although his stomach was empty, he was sure something would come up. Stiles swayed, almost falling over, but Scott caught him. Derek was in the other room still, probably looking out the window. Stiles taped the gauze back on. "It wasn't that bad when I found you," Scott said. Stiles wasn't sure if he was trying to be reassuring, or just stating a fact. Stiles pushed this to the back of his mind as he made his way back to the room. 

"So, what's this assholes name?" Stiles asked Derek, anger suddenly bubbling up inside him. One little thing could make him explode. 

"I don't know, no one does. It's a demons weakness, so why would he go blurting it out?!" Derek replied, as if he had told them this before. 

"Well, how can we find that out?" Stiles asked. Derek should've known this question was coming so it was a mystery as to why he didn't tell. 

"We could coax it out of him, but that is a near impossible task."

"Any other options?"

"Those directly related to him will know his name." Derek looked Stiles in the eye. 

"Directly related.....?"

"Or bitten," Derek said, watching as Stiles reacted. 

Stiles head spun, clouding his vision. He would've said something, but he feared something other than words would come out. The ground seemed to disappear from beneath him. The walls spun. Derek, Scott, and Allison contorted horribly, lengthening and bending in every other way. All Stiles could do was let his knees buckle, and left the rest to his weight. He fell to the floor, hitting his head on the corner of the bed. 

Stiles woke up, his head wasn't spinning but a terrible migraine had set in. His limbs felt like jelly, if he tried to move them he thought they might melt. His heart raced, and he couldn't breath in too much because his lungs burned, like he had inhaled a bucket of hot ash. He sat up, realizing he was still on the ground. He wondered whose genius idea it was to leave him there.... probably Derek's. He stood up, not moving for several seconds while the blood rushed to his head. A pain settles behind his eyes, burning his corneas. As he walked down the hall, he noticed a new pain sprouted from his neck, or had been there and he hadn't noticed till now. It was a prickle at first, but grew into an intense, overwhelming sizzle. It felt like scene had poured acid not his neck. It didn't stay in his neck either. It spiraled from the bite, across his shoulders, and down his arms. It settles in his toes. He leaned against the wall for a little bit, trying to muster enough strength to find the others. 

Stiles stumbled down the stairs, coming close to tripping several times. He searched the house, slowly, but hadn't found the others. He came to the door and opened it like he had all the time in the world. Standing in the threshold was the demon guy. He leaned against the right side of the frame. He had a toothpick sticking from his mouth. Another nonexistent wind made his hair and coat whip around him. He stepped in past Stiles. "I hear you have a little problem," he said, sitting down on a step. 

"Dude, I don't have time for this, can you just go while I figure out how to kill your sorry ass," Stiles replied, sliding down the wall till he was in a siting position. 

"Now, now. You better not reveal your plan just as you are about to use it," the demon waved his index finger, tsk-tsking. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

"Oh, cut the shit! Why are you fucking here?" 

"To claim you," he replied, standing up, stretching. 

"Clam me?"

"We'll yes, I bit you didn't I. It's very similar to werewolves: the transformation starts immediately. Sight and hearing will be heightened. Of course, though, you won't have the same.... abilities.... as I. With each bite, the powers one gets differs. So I will train you!" he said cheerfully, placing his fingertips together. 

"One: why would I go with you? Two: why me?"

"Do you know what gives anythings abilities, whether it be a werewolf or a demon, its powers?" Great, more riddles, Stiles thought. 

"No."

"Emotions," he replied. He was now pacing in front of Stiles, like he was giving a very sophisticated speech. 

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Out of your group of friends, your the most.... emotional."

"Am not!" Stiles felt like he should've been offended, even though he wasn't. He knew it was true. He acted on impulse, which came from his emotions. 

"You are surprisingly emotional for a guy," the demon said, sitting back down on the stairs. 

"And what makes you think I will come with you? I hate you!" 

"If I can control your dreams, Stiles, I can control your decisions." Now Stiles was standing. 

"That's eliminating my free will, not fair!"

"Totally fair!" the demon retorted like he was a five year old. 

"No! You will not take me with you, you are going to leave. NOW!" Stiles shouted, stomping his foot, which almost made him fall from pain. The demon suddenly stopped.... doing anything. His eyes had a glazed over look and his breathing slowed. He swayed, as if under a trance. 

"I will leave you." he said in a monotone voice. The area around him crinkled and shimmered, and he was gone. Stiles closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers, wishing he pain would go away. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the room, laying on the floor, everyone staring at him. Each had a look of worry on their faces. He sat up, propping himself on his elbows. Derek was the closest, practically touching Stiles nose to nose. 

"Back off, asshole!"

"Now you want me to back off. Go your such an idol!" Derek threw back, although it wasn't a very good comeback. 

"Yeah, now I do," he said, trying to push him away, which failed because he didn't have the strength, or energy to do so. Derek remained in the same lace. The pain from the bite was still there, pulsing through his body in waves. Stiles winced when Derek touched the gauze. 

"Are you in pain?" he asked, a look of genuine concern in his red eyes. Those red eyes. Those fucking big, round, piercing.... adorable red eyes. 

"No shit, Sherlock, did Watson help you figure that out," Stiles said, pointing to Scott with his head. 

"Hey!" Allison rubbed his arm, while giggling to herself. 

"Here," Derek said. He placed his hand behind Stiles head, pulling him forward. It pained Stiles to bend his neck in such a way, but he did what Derek asked. Stiles upper lip ended up on Derek's bottom. Derek opened his mouth, Stiles following. Derek stuck his tongue into Stiles mouth, playing with his tongue. It was.... arousing. Stiles placed his hands on Derek's shoulder blades, feeling the area where his Treskilion tattoo was. He traced Derek's various back muscles, leading down to his ass. Derek had his arms draped around Stiles waist. Stiles leaned into the kiss, his chest touching Derek's. the kiss as more than something Derek was doing to.... fuck, Stiles didn't know why he was doing it, but he didn't care. He loved it?

With his hands still on Derek's back, he slipped them up Derek's shirt. The air was getting hot around them. Everything was perfect. Everything was unending....

"Ahem!" Scott interrupted. Stiles and Derek lulled apart, both looking.... scratch that.... glaring at Scott. Scott looked down at his lap, like he had down something wrong. Stiles couldn't help but smile. But, pain quickly got rid of that. 

"Why did you ask if I was in pain?" Stiles asked. 

"Because this would help," Derek replied, kissing Stiles again. But this time was different. It wasn't all for fun. Stiles could feel the pain being sucked out through his mouth. Black veins formed around Stiles mouth, going into Derek. The black faded as it coursed through Derek's face. This was an ability he realized he had once he became an alpha. He can take pain away, just by touch. Granted he didn't have to kiss Stiles, but it made things.... arousing! Derek pulled away after feeling no more pain come from Stiles. He was sure the pain would return in an hour or so, but for now, it was manageable. 

"Wait, if you could do that, why wouldn't you help me?" Scott asked. Every turned no looked at him. 

"Do you want Derek to kiss you?" Stiles asked, smiling. 

Allison gave him a funny look, her arm that was looped through his loosened. "No, I meant taking pain away. Not necessarily through kiss.... it would've helped several times," Scott replied hastily. Allison armed tightened around his, a smile returning to her face. Still went back to looking at Derek. He started with his cute peanut ears, and funny buck teeth that made him smile every time Derek talked. His eyes scrolled down to stare at his stomach.... or more like his abs. He imagined doing so many things to the, such as lick the sweat from his chest. He thought it would make a nice pillow, Derek's breathing lulling him to sleep. 

Stiles stopped staring once he saw Derek looking at him with a smile. "Uh, so.... what should we do about the fairy tales?" Stiles asked quickly. He stood up, moving towards the window. He looked out, seeing less activity than before. He heard a scream from down the street. He knew the voice.... Greenberg! What a rude guy, but he didn't deserve to die in such a comical way. He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was strange that Jackson and Danny hadn't checked in, or made a sound, Stiles thought his mind drifting off. Maybe they were 'experimenting' somewhere else. 

"How do I found out his name?" Stiles asked, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. 

"Have you exhibited any powers yet?" Derek asked, placing his chin in his hands. 

"Well, when I fell after seeing the bite on my neck, the demon came to me, saying he claimed me," Stiles explained, and he could've swore he heard Derek growl when he said claim, "I told him to go away and he did."

"Just like that?" Scott wondered.

"Just like that," Stiles repeated.

Derek was rubbing the stubble on his chin, and Stiles touched his cheek where Derek's stubble had rubbed against while they were kissing. "Maybe, you can make him tell you," Derek said, looking up at Stiles. 

"I might not be strong enough for that," Stiles said, looking concerned. 

"Yeah, you're not, but we can train you in a short amount of time to enhance those powers to something more, such as mind control."

"I thought that's what I had?" Stiles questioned. 

"You have persuasion. It's like putting an idea into someone's head. But with mind control, you can completely take them over." Derek said. 

"Let's get started," Stiles said, clapping his hands together. 

"We're going to go to my house." Derek told them. Scott and Alison were the first ones out. Stiles was abut to leave when Derek slid his arm across Stiles waist. 

"Careful wolf boy," Stiles snarled playfully. He smiled, and nipped Derek's bottom lip. Derek pulled him in for another kiss before they took off.


	13. Practice.... or something

They reached Derek's house in a matter of minutes, although it should've taken much longer. Derek was driving, and every time they rounded a corner, Stiles clutched to Derek's arm. He would roll his eyes, and keep on driving, not slowing down, only speeding up. Derek's yard- if that's what you can all dead grass and wilted flowers that were scattered in patches across the front of his house- was riddled with various creatures. Some of them were from fairy tales Stiles didn't recognize. They dodge there way in between the creatures. Some didn't seem to notice, and some did notice but were too slow to actually do anything. They made it inside, locking the door. "This is why the old train station is where I live, but I figured this would be safer," Derek huffed, leaning against the door.

"What makes you think this would've been any safer?" Stiles asked. 

"This house used to.... house many werewolves. Our powers should be strengthened here."

"Oh," Stiles said, but it still didn't make any sense. 

"Scott, Allison, you guys can wait here in the living room, I am going to take Stiles upstairs to practice," he said, pointing to the stairs with his thumb.

"Sure, whatever." Scott said, shrugging. Him and Allison sat down on the couch, giggling about god knows what. Derek led Stiles to a room that, surprisingly, held a bed in it. The floor was a bit rickety, but it seemed alright. The room was pretty big, which should give them enough rom to practice. The bed had red velvet sheets with gold lacing. The four posts almost reached the ceiling, and each held a corner of a see through black drape that hung over the top and sides. 

"My mom's room," Derek said, after seeing Stiles face, wondering who could've lived in here. Derek pulled up a chair, almost out of nowhere, and Stiles sat. Derek stood, a few feet away, "Now, persuade me to do something."

"But, what if I don't want to," Stiles said.

"It doesn't have to be bad, we're just dong this so you can get this under control, and possibly enhance further," Derek said.

"Ugh, I don't know what to make.... persuade you to do!"

"Give it a second, you'll think of something." Stiles closed his eyes, racking his mind of what he could persuade Derek to do.... then it came to him. Stiles opened his eyes, and stared right into Derek's. He pushed in his persuasion, making Derek's eyes turn red. When he brought the idea to where it needed to be, he got stopped. Like there was a door.... or better yet, a wall. 

"I, I can't," Stiles said, squinting his eyes. His heart pounded, and his head throbbed. But he couldn't push the thought all the way in.

"You need to use your emotions to push it in," Derek said, then smiled. It took Stiles a while to realize the innuendo. He smiled, briefly, then continued. He looked through his emotion, like he was picking a song from a rack of CD's. Stiles found the perfect one.... arousal. He used it, willed it into the persuasion, breaking open the wall. Derek's eyes fluttered, still red, then rested on Stiles. Derek smiled, walking towards Stiles. He sat on Stiles lap saying, "You don't need to persuade me to get me to do that!" He pulled Stiles in, kissing him. Derek's tongue slithers into Stiles mouth like a snake, licking the top of his mouth before laying with his own tongue. Stiles smiled, making the kiss awkward to do for a few seconds. Stiles slid his own tongue into Derek's mouth, returning the favor. Stiles could feel his pants tighten as a boner formed, getting bigger with every touch of the tongues. Stiles, also, felt Derek's jeans press against his stomach. Derek growled as he kissed Stiles, biting his upper lip. 

Somehow, they managed to get onto the bed. Stiles had his shirt off, and Derek was in the process of removing his. Stiles stared and touched Derek's chest. He felt every muscle and curve of Derek's abs, making his way around to Derek's back. He pressed his fingers where he thought Derek's Treskilion was, in between his shoulder blades. Derek shivered, in a good way, causing goosebumps to form on his skin. He growled again, in arousal. Stiles nipped Derek's peanut ear, pulling a little. Stiles was laying down on the bed, Derek on top of him. Derek moved his hops back and forth against Stiles, although they were both still wearing clothes. Stiles slid his hands down the back of Derek's pants, grabbing his ass and squeezing. Derek's growls grew more frequent, and each one a little more lustful. Stiles was getting uncomfortable in his jeans, his boner rubbing against his zipper. Derek looked just as so, seeing as how much Derek had grown over such little intimacy. Derek left Stiles lips, and nipped at his neck, then his chest. Licking every so often, leaving a trail. As Derek licked down farther, Stiles moved into it more. Moving his hips up. Derek found the button to stiles jeans, biting at, and finally undoing it with his teeth. He pulled Stiles jeans and boxers down, throwing them across the room, on accident. Stiles undid Derek's jeans, pulling them down his thighs. He couldn't get them off Derek because Derek was kneeling, so he left them for now. Derek eyed Stiles throbbing dick, watching at how the slightest touch would make it twitch. 

He licked the head of Stiles dick, slowly. It made Stiles ache for much, much more and quickly. Derek could feel the suspense reverberating through Stiles and into him. It was fantastic seeing him squirm with anticipation. By how, Stiles was massaging Derek's ass cheeks with his hands, fingering him at the same time. Derek growled even more. Stiles left Derek's ass for a little bit, and decided to grab Derek's hair, probably messing up what could've taken him an hour to do, but Stiles didn't care, and he was pretty sure Derek didn't either. "Do you.... have.... protection?" Stiles said between breathes. 

"Of course," Derek replied, lifting his head from Stiles cock. With a bit of struggle, he managed to grab a condom from the back pocket of his jeans. He tugged off the rest of his clothing, throwing it somewhere near Stiles stuff. Derek licked his way back to Stiles mouth, again thrusting his hips against Stiles, their cocks rubbing together. 

Stiles looked into Derek's red eyes, and said with emotion, "I want you in me, now!"

"Yes," was all Derek said before ripping open the condom with his teeth. Derek's fangs had grown in and his ears had pointed. His nails weren't fully extended, but were still sharp, so he kept his hands as fists. He could see Stiles had changed.... into his demon form: every one of Stiles teeth had sharpened, and his eyes were a piercing green with black slits for pupils. Stiles ears were pointed, but not any longer. His cheekbones were more defined, along with every muscle in Stiles body. Random spots of green scales had formed around Stiles body, making his body a little harder to hold. "You ready, hell boy?!" Derek said, smiling. Stiles smiled, grabbing the sheets. Derek turned stiles over, placing him on his hands and knees. 

"Mmm.... doggy style, how original," Stiles said, long back as Derek rolled the condom onto his dick. Before Derek penetrated Stiles, he spread Stiles ass cheeks, licking his, well.... ass. He did this because he knew that Stiles pleasure would be replaced with pain so he wanted to give Stiles just a bit more pleasure. He licked, like a dog actually, until Stiles hole was moist. Stiles groaned with pleasure. Stiles shoved his face into the sheets, bracing himself for what was to come next. Haha.... come, Stiles thought. Derek placed his cock in Stiles ass, pushing as slowly as he could take, without fucking Stiles like the fucking animal he was. When Stiles ass touched Derek's hips, he lulled out, then pushed back in. He did this, slowly, until Stiles said, "Its okay, I can take it."

"Okay, be careful what you wish for," Derek replied, smiling. He started slowly, like before, but grew faster. Stiles did moan out of pleasure and pain mixed, but overall it was worth it. The sexual ecstasy was amazing. Derek clamped onto Stiles sides like a fucking dog, humping crazily like a fucking dog. He bit, playfully, at the back of stiles neck, licking him for good measures. Stiles grabbed the sheets every time his ass met Derek's hips. After the pain had died down and was replaced by pure pleasure, he grabbed at his cock, tugging. Derek's claws extended even more, creating tiny scratches that left Stiles skin red without actually breaking skin. Derek started to hump faster, playing with Stiles balls. Stiles moaned, tugging harder at his cock. When Derek felt close to cumming, he pulled out of Stiles, ripping the comdom away. He moved his hand up and down his cock, swiftly. He shot all over Stiles back, almost reaching Stiles head. He could feel Stiles tense underneath him, shooting his long awaited load. 

Derek picked up an old shirt, wiping off Stiles back, and wiping the sheets as best he could. Stiles layed down on the bed, naked, with Derek curling up against him. They pulled the sheets over themselves, the cold suddenly getting to them. Derek rubbed the scratches on Stiles back, licking a few of them. Stiles turned around, his face back to normal. "I love you, " he said, kissing Derek.

"You too," Derek said, kissing him back 

 

Derek and Stiles came back down the steps, dressed, but ruffled. Derek's hair was messed up, sticking p in every other direction. Scott and Allison were still on this couch. "Hey," Scott said, " how was.... uh.... training?" He giggled to Allison.

"Uh.... good," Derek ad Stiles said at the same time. 

"Was it relieving, climatic....?" Scott asked. 

"I don't know, it helped me learn how to place more sophisticated persuasions into someone's head." Stiles said, looking at Scott and Allison wi a puzzled look. 

"We heard.... I mean, guessed," Allison said, smiling. 

Stiles eyes widened, and he said, "You guys heard us?!"

"The floors are pretty thin." Scott replied. Derek hid his face out of embarrassment. 

"We noticed dust coming from the ceiling over there, then we realized, it had a pattern. Our dirty minds took over from that," Scott said. 

"So, how many different positions?" Allison asked. 

"One," Derek growled. His cheeks were about as red as his eyes. Stiles patted his chest, reassuring him that it was alright. Derek sat on a chair near the couch, and Stiles placed himself in Derek's lap. 

"I imagine that that was what they were doing," Allison laughed. 

"Shut up abut you guys! We don't talk about you having sex!" Stiles growled, his eyes flashing green. 

"What the hell was that?" Scott sounded freaked. 

"Demon face," Stiles said, smiling, as if it was something to be proud of. 

"So Derek wolfed out and Stiles demon-ed out?" Scott said. 

Derek shook his head yes, nipping Stiles ears. "So, how do we find this demon, nightmare.... guy?" Stiles wondered. 

"In our dreams," Derek said.


	14. The end

Derek came into the living room, carrying a small bottle that rattled as he took each step. He sat down on the chair's arm, because Stiles was sitting in it. And he didn't think Stiles small frame would be able to handle Derek's if he sat down on his lap. He opened the bottle with a bit of difficulty. He poured out four blue pills. He gave one to Stiles, Scott, Allison and kept one form himself. "These are heavy sleeping pills. I had gotten them after finding it difficult to sleep after the fire," Derek said, rolling the pill around in his palm. "They should get us to where we need to go." One at. Time, starting with Stiles, they swallowed the pills, now water or any other kind of drink. Stiles almost got stuck in his throat, because it was so dry, but he managed to force it down. It took the pills a few minutes to cruelly put them to sleep, each minute spent with jittery movements and anxious looks. Then, Scott first, they fell asleep. Each ones head drooped to the side or the back, leaving the room in snores. Derek almost fell on top of Stiles, but he then swayed the other way and he fell asleep after falling on the floor. 

Stiles woke, laying in the same forest he had been in, in previous nightmares. He could smell the familiar scent of burning wood that billowed from the chimney that towered over the little cottage. The fog that hovered above the ground wasn't as dense, but had the same acrid smell. He made his way thought the forest, remembering the way like he ha just had the dream. He didn't know what to expect when he got to the cottage, but he pushed such thoughts out of his mind at the moment. He fond his way back to the cottage, and gripped the handle. He twisted it and pushed the door open. Everything was the same, but the air had a feel to it. It wasn't so much as hostile.... but scared. Stiles demon-ed out. Each finger branded a two inch claw, tipped with a poison not much different from that of the kanima's. he focused in on, everything. He could smell wood burning in the fire place, each fleck of ash rising through the chimney, burning the brick walls. He could smell soup that had gone bad days ago, hardening on the sides of the pot, the top molding. He could hear steady breathing, not his own, but that of the wolf's. he could hear the curtain blowing lightly in the wind, but it sounded like waves crashing. He could see every fleck of dust in the air, every bit of dirt someone thought they had wiped off, but had trailed around the cottage. He walked to the curtain, less afraid of what he was going to face. Then he remember. He grabbed the old bat from the corner of the cottage, then went back to the curtain. H pulled it back, the bat raised. But he instantly relaxed. 

Derek was in the bed, sleeping. He grabbed Derek's shoulder and shook him, "Derek, Derek! Wake up!" He hit Derek's shoulder. Derek's eyes fluttered open, looking around. His eyes rested on Stiles. He sat up, wrapping his arms around Stiles waist. 

"Hey," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. 

"He," Stiles said. 

Suddenly, Derek's breathing quickened. Stiles could both he's and feel a deep growl escape Derek's throat. "Go!" he said. 

Stiles looked at him, "What?!" 

"Go, before I hurt you!" 

"Why would you hurt me?"

"I'm the wolf, your 'lil red. I am supposed to eat you. I'll try to hold off as long as I can, but I can't hold on forever." Derek looked concerned. 

"Fine, but I'll come back."

"I have a feeling I'll find you first," Derek replied. Stiles was up and out of the cottage within seconds. He ran through the forest, not tripping on anything because he was demon-ed out. Otherwise, he'd be tripping all over the place and he definitely would've died. He ran for so long, he was sure hat Derek wouldn't have caught him, but not far in the distance, he heard howling. He kept going, not stopping to let his legs regain feeling or to catch his breath. He ran so far, that he came into a clearing. But what was in it, shouldn't have been. He stumbled upon a city. It looked old, about as old as the cottage. People walked about, hanging clothes, setting new foods on display. It had cobblestone streets, and people traveled by horse and wagon. He hurried into the city, ducking into alleys and into the shadows whenever someone passed. After a few minutes within it, he heard a clacking. It sounded like someone walking, but not with any shoes he knew. He peeked out of the alley, seeing a small silhouette. No bigger than a small boy. He hurried up to the boy.

"Are you alright?" he asked. 

The boy turned and said, "Stiles, it's me." He was looking at Scott. He brought Scott into the light, seeing that it really was him, an that he was wooden. 

"Oh my god, you're a puppet!"

"No shit," he replied, rolling his eyes, 

"Well, anyways, Derek is chasing me," Stiles said, his face growing more serious. 

"Why?!"

"I'm 'lil red and he is he big bad wolf," Stiles answered. "C'mon, we've got to find Allison. She should be in a castle, somewhere." They made there way through the town, having to stop every so often so Scott could put his leg back into place. It was actually very annoying and Stiles was petty sure that Scott's footsteps would give them away. Finally, the town faded not the background and they were on a winding path that ran up a very steep hill. It was almost impossible to not slip on the stones as you were walking up because each one was covered in water. They finally made it to the top, coming to a ridge that hung over a chasm in front of the castle. They crossed without ask. Stiles almost fell through several times, and Scott kept slipping, almost falling into the deep darkness below. 

They made it across with only a few cuts and bruises, or in Scott's case splinters and chips. The doors to the castle were a few feet higher than Stiles, and bolted. Stiles tugged at on of the doors and tugged. It slid open its ease, surprisingly. The sipped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible because whatever they did echoed off every wall. They found there way to a spiral staircase. It seemed like the staircase never ended, but at last, it came to a room. Stiles opened the hatch, climbing into a warm room. A small fire flickered on a candle in the corner of the room. A fireplace sat empty not far away, and sitting in front of it was a spinning wheel. It was the kind people used to use to spin thread. A cot was placed in the corner opposite the candle, a figure atop it. Stiles walked to the cot, noticing it was Allison, sleeping away. Her hands were folded across her chest, holdings rose between her skinny, white fingers. Her hair was golden locks, not her usual brown. "You know, she doesn't make a bad blonde," Stiles said, as Scott stepped up next to Stiles. 

"Yeah, she looks pretty good," Scott agreed, "time to get her out of here." Scott leaned over her, placing a kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, color filled her face, her hair turning back to dark brown. The rose and dress disappeared. She was wearing her usual clothes. She sat up, gasping. Then, she disappeared, probably waking up. 

"Wow! Easy," Stiles said. Scott looked over at Scott to find he was gone. "Too easy," he said to himself. Then, bouncing up the steps, came the sound of a growl. Stiles looked down the hatch and saw a pair of red eyes. He closed the hatch, dragging the cot and wheel on top of it. As soon as he finished moving it, a pound came from he hatch, making the cot and wheel fly a few inches into the air. He backed away, to he window. He looked down to see the ground several hundred feet away. The cot and wheel flew against the wall, the hatch slamming into the floor. Derek clawed his way out, growling, his red eyes piercing as ever. Stiles draped his feet over the edge, and pushed off. He could feel the wind rush past his ears and the looming thought of the ground nearing in his mind. 

He opened his eyes to find he was home, in his bed. He was under the sheets, it was night out. Something didn't feel right, though. The air was different, not homey. It was hostile. Stiles at up, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them, the demon guy was there, staring at him. "So, I am going to take you now," he got up from the bed, and was about to open the door.

"No!"

"Excuse me!?"

"I said no," Stiles said. 

"Nobody says no to me," the demon guy said, his eyes burning with rage. 

"Oh shut the fuck up, you sound like a teenage prep girl. I just said fucking no!" 

"Oh, you're coming with me, even if I have to force you," the demon guy said, grabbing Stiles arm.

Stiles pulled away, staring into the demons eyes. He pulled an emotion, or emotions from himself: anger, sadness, happiness, disappointment. He pushed a thought into the demons mind, 'you will tell me your name.' 

He struggled, making Stiles sweat. A headache formed in the back of his eyes, and his body started to ache. With much hesitation, the demon said, 'Greenberg.'

"No fucking way!" Stiles said.

"Huh," Greenberg said, still in a bit of a trance. 

"Greenberg!" Stiles said, smiling. 

Greenberg's eyes widened, and he said, "Shit!" Starting at his toes, Greenberg started to fade away, like a string being pulled from a sweater, he unraveled. He screamed, as he completely unraveled, floating out the window in yet another wind that was nonexistent. Stiles smiled, but that disappeared as well, because.... well, he wasn't waking up. 

"Shit!"

 

Derek was standing in front of Stiles who was sleeping in he chair, curled up, and sucking his thumb. He grabbed his shoulders and yelled, "Stiles!" He kissed Stiles on the mouth, but nothing happened. He did it again, but again nothing. 

"Stiles!" he yelled again, tears streaming down his face, "wake up!" 

To be continued....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end.... forr this one. Before I write the sequel, I decided to write a story in which Stiles and Derek's relationship start under much different circumstances. Thank you for all for reading, hope it was as much fun to read as it was a much fun for me write!


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